“It’s going to be all right. You’ll be safe here. And for this, we have . . . Auntie Ally to thank.”
Holly sniffled and lifted her head. She saw Allene by the door. Allene smiled and fidgeted with her hands. The little girl extended a plump, tiny arm and stepped forward to accept Allene’s small embrace. Allene allowed a flicker of a smile, a few rapid blinks. If all went well, in time Holly’s embraces would smite Allene with far better aim and consequence than a German bullet ever could.
There would be no question now: Holly would never, ever be groomed to follow in Hazel’s steps. But that comfort didn’t displace the fissuring within Birdie herself. This house had broken her, ruined her family, and here she was again. Birdie’s heart was a mosaic of cracks, and there was abundant room for more breaking if she wasn’t careful.
“Thank you,” she whispered, letting her tears fall, “for letting us come home.”
CHAPTER 17
Allene left Birdie and Holly in their room, away from prying eyes. Namely, Father’s. He would be livid that they were here without his consent. But the maids were almost gleeful. There was an adorable child to look after. There was new gossip. It was heaven.
Downstairs, Andrew and Ernie were having a heated discussion with Jasper. It was odd to see the three of them talking. Ernie’s usual sanguine words were wilting in a peacekeeping attempt between Jasper and Andrew, who were exchanging barbs.
“If you were helping her order the medicines,” Jasper reasoned, “you had an obligation to make sure they were correct. You’re not an idiot, you can read a label.”
“I’m not a medical man. But you are. Or I hear you will be. Why didn’t you take some responsibility for your friend and check on them? Or were you too busy to care?”
“Some of us don’t have money handed to us on a silver platter. I have to actually work.”
Ernie looked more upset than either of them. “Ah, maybe we should all take a moment? Get some fresh air. Might we remember that there’s a war, and we’re all on the same side?”
“Fresh air would be welcome. I’d kill for a cigarette,” Jasper muttered.
Andrew coughed and took a tin of fine mint pastilles from his pocket. He helped himself before snapping the tin closed without offering one. Jasper shook his head at Ernie, ever so slightly, as if to say, What a greedy little rat.
“You’re looking a little pale, Andrew,” Jasper noted. “Maybe you need a stint in the country. Get some fresh air for a while.”
Andrew looked pointedly away. If anything, it made Jasper look even merrier. He seemed to delight in irritating Andrew.
Allene strode forward and flashed a brilliant smile, a special one that tended to dazzle when wrought properly. “Are you boys fighting over me again? Aren’t you sweet,” she said, trying to keep her voice playful. “I’m not Uncle Sam. I can at least enforce some peace under my own roof.”
“I wish you were Uncle Sam. Or at least President Wilson. Then none of us would have to register tomorrow,” Andrew said.
“Be careful what you say,” Ernie warned him. “You could go to jail for that kind of talk.”
“Wait a moment.” Allene’s smile disintegrated. “What, are you all registering?”
“Ugh, I wish to God I might. My birthday isn’t until November,” Ernie said. He seemed disgusted with his own youth.
Andrew nodded but without a mite of enthusiasm. Oh, that damned draft, dropping the age so all her boys would have to register. Next thing, they’d be drafting little twelve-year-olds.
Andrew reached for his hat. “It’s getting late. Walk me to the door?” he asked Allene, who assented. He pulled out a cigarette, searching his pocket for a match. Without thinking, Allene retrieved the Wonderliter from her pocket. She realized her mistake when she saw a brief expression of disgust pass over his face. He used it to light his cigarette but kept the lighter in his palm.
When they were far enough away from Jasper, Allene tugged at his sleeve. “Andrew. May I ask a favor?”
“Of course. Anything.”
She dropped her gaze to her polished shoes. “I would like for you to be paying Birdie a little less of your kind attention. I know about the groceries.”
Andrew’s face clouded over. “I don’t see an issue. I was simply generous to a family in need. A family, I might add, that you find dear yourself.”
Allene’s lips were a grim, tight line. “And Birdie—did she thank you?”
“Birdie Dreyer is, and will always be, a lady,” Andrew answered, with a hard edge to his voice. He clasped her wrist in his hand, hard enough to emphasize his point but not hard enough to leave a mark. He lowered his voice to a growl. “And we won’t speak of this again. I won’t have my future wife question me in this manner, not now and not when we are married. Do you understand?”
Allene responded with silence, but it was enough. Andrew bent forward and kissed her cheek, leaving a moist mark. She felt smeared and soiled, and she stepped aside as Andrew opened the door to leave.
“Oh, and this.” He lifted the Wonderliter, pinched in his fingers. “A woman doesn’t need a cigarette lighter. I suppose you’ve been lacking a lady’s influence in your life for too many years, but Mother will remedy that.”
He pocketed the lighter just as Allene’s father arrived—they said rushed hellos and good-byes before Mr. Cutter entered the house. Allene was still seething with fury.
“Allene? Why on earth are there so many guests at the house?”
Ernie stood up at attention—he was army ready, for sure. Ernie would swallow a grenade if his superior demanded it. Jasper stood in the presence of Allene’s father too, but without the snap-to-attention deference. His spine curved as he crossed his arms, and his mouth pulled into a defiant frown.
“Allene? What is going on?” he demanded again.
Allene regained her composure. “Oh. Ernest and Andrew were here to pay a call. Jasper came to assist with Birdie and Holly Dreyer. They’re staying over for a while.”
Slowly, he spoke. “Birdie Dreyer. And who? Why on earth, may I ask?”
“May I speak to you in the study, Father?”
Mr. Cutter nearly threw his coat and hat at the old butler before leading Allene down the hallway. She turned at the last moment to give Jasper a panicked look; a toss of her head told him to leave immediately and to take Ernie with him. She caught up with her father in the study and heard the front door shut.
“What’s the meaning of all of this? You know how your mother feels about that girl and her mother.”
“Birdie’s mother has died.”
“Hazel Dreyer?” The news froze Father; he seemed to lose focus for a moment as he remembered something that Allene couldn’t reach. “Hazel,” he repeated. “Hazel is dead?” For someone who hadn’t seen her in years, he seemed startlingly affected by the news.
“Yes. She had health problems and was on medication. She died this morning in their apartment. I just couldn’t stand the idea of little Holly and her sister staying there alone, especially with the police buzzing about.”
“Who is Holly?”